


Worry

by YavannaK



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I really wish everyone the best, Not Betaed, Set Whenever You Want, Worries, a little fluff, airplane travelling, i don't know why I came up with this, realistic fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YavannaK/pseuds/YavannaK
Summary: Till keeps an eye on Richard when he receives some bad news while on tour.This is a story about friendship.





	Worry

Till suddenly lifted his eyes from the text message he was writing and looked around. He’d been so immersed in the apology he was composing that he came back to reality almost jolting. The angry accusation he was trying to beat echoed in his mind as he let his eyes roam from under his hanging black bangs.

_“_ _Not only I am your fucking doll, you also have the gut to come here with another whore’s smell on you. Send a prayer next time you come to this goddamn city cause if I find you you’re dead you motherfuc-_

He imperceptibly flinched as if those words physically hurt and tried to wipe them away from his mind. He focused fully on his surroundings. Their next performance was in three days in a different country and he was sitting in an airport, waiting for their totally normal flight surrounded by totally normal people, most of which at the moment was actually crew. They were staying in a VIP waiting room nicely provided by the airport security, so they could have some peace and nothing would happen. Probably the airport security cared more for the “nothing would happen” part, scared that a fan could suddenly recognize them and a wave of chaos would ensue.

Nevertheless, they hadn’t been spotted yet. They were only being openly stared at by a middle age man impeccably dressed, eyeing them over the edge of the French newspaper he was holding in front of him. He didn’t look like someone who would stand up and run at them for an autograph or tweet their position to the rest of the world.

Till stretched his legs and lifted one to rest the foot on his trolley. He glanced back at the text message and decided to save the draft and think about it later. He could really fancy a snack right there and then instead, perhaps a muffin, or a donut. He tried to take a look at the bar counter but couldn’t really see since there were many people around it.

After some neck craning, he decided he was not so hungry and chose to remain where he was, lifting the second leg to join the other on the trolley. In the row of seats in front of him there were Christoph and Paul looking at something on Paul’s laptop. It was probably a video since they were sharing a pair of headphones and their eyes were fixed on the screen. They were both grinning and Paul occasionally bobbed his shoulder in suppressed chuckles. He was holding in his hand a small bag of M&Ms which were not being shared, apparently.

Next to Christoph there were Oliver’s jacket and trolley but the bassist was nowhere to be seen. Looking to his right Till spotted Flake at the end of his row, napping. Closer to Till’s seat there was Richard’s stuff. His trolley was laying flat on the ground with a small paper bag on top, containing something Till remembered he had bought in the Duty-Free. But Richard, too, was nowhere to be seen.

Till surveyed the area for a while longer. Among the people occupying the waiting room, he spotted Richard’s guitar technician wholeheartedly drinking a Heineken, their manager fussing with some poor fellows and a bunch of other roadies who traveled on their same airplane.

As he was staring at a young busty woman minding her own business as far as she could from the group of roadies, tugging at her skirt while sipping from a paper cup, he spotted with the corner of his eye Oliver and Richard coming up the stairs leading to the VIP waiting room, which was in fact one floor above the gates level.

As he stepped on the marble floor, Richard swung down his hoodie revealing his spiked hair. He and Paul had had an interview the same morning and he’d gelled up his locks. Next to him walked Oliver in his new Vans sweater, pulling down the thick scarf he’d used to conceal half of his face.

Till looked at them as they approached their seats, neither of them talking and looking rather serious. Richard’s eyes seemed to be fixed on the ground. Oliver acknowledged Till with a glance as he sat down next to Christoph. Richard rounded Till’s outstretched legs and nudged his trolley out of the way with a foot, so he could sit next to Till. As the guitarist maneuvered his stuff, Till looked at Oliver.

The bassist held his gaze and his wide grey eyes seemed to express some kind of worry. Till cocked his head slightly to convey his confusion and Ollie’s eyes darted toward Richard. Till squinted, now even more confused. Ollie only mouthed a few words.

“ _His brother._ ”

 Before Till could learn more, Richard was sitting next to him, making a ball of his jacket and placing it in the seat to his right. Till discretely looked at him. The guitarist leaned back crossing his arms over his chest and stared at nothing, clutching his phone in his right hand so tightly his knuckles were turning white. His brows were furrowed and he all in all looked tense.

Till looked back at Oliver who pursued his lips and slowly shook his head slightly. Perplexed, Till took a long breath and lowered his feet to the ground. He stretched his legs and fumbled in his pockets to retrieve his wallet. Casting one last glance at Oliver he turned again toward Richard.

“You want something?” he asked quietly.

At first, Richard seemed not to hear him.

“Richard” called Till a bit louder. Richard’s eyes came back to life and he turned his head.

“What?” he asked looking straight at Till with wide eyes.

“You want something? A coffee or whatever?”

“I… no”.

“I’m going to get a coffee, you sure?”

“Yeah… umh, no. I mean, yes. A coffee” he corrected himself unfolding his arms and rubbing his hands on his legs, averting his eyes from Till’s.

Till waited. Richard looked lost in some thoughts.

“Is everything okay?” Till asked in a low voice. Oliver was staring at them while by his side Paul and Chris were oblivious to everything, watching their video.

Richard opened his mouth, still slowly rubbing his hands on his legs, but said nothing. He lowered his eyes to the floor and chewed on his tongue before mouthing a low and forlorn _"no"_. He then lifted his eyes directly at Oliver.

“Wanna talk?” murmured Till. He saw Richard and Oliver exchanging a long look and waited.

After a while of fidgeting with his phone and some nervous lip biting, Richard stood up.

“Let’s go get a coffee” he said, fixing his sweater. Till quickly raised and lead the way to the bar counter, followed by Richard. They waited in line, Richard biting fiercely on his lips without saying a word, eyes fixed at nothing in front of him. After a little while, they could take their coffees to a tall round table facing the apron, where a huge Airbus was being refueled. Beyond their own reflections on the wide glass panels, the sky was dark as night approached. Richard placed cup and saucer on the table top. After taking a long breath he finally spoke in a low voice, gaze fixed on the landscape outside, with his forearms resting on the table. Till hold his breath.

“My brother’s at the hospital. He got into an accident while he was driving home from work and he’s bad. He’s got some internal damage and a couple broken bones and they’re assessing if he’s got any kind of brain damage” he explained, clutching in a tight grip his phone. “I’m worried” he murmured and chew hard on the inside of his cheek, eyes tightening.

 _Fuck. This is bad_ , thought Till. _Real bad_.

“I’m sorry to hear that” the singer breathed out, lowering his eyes on his cup of coffee. “Is he critical?” he asked warily, glancing up.

Richard continued to look outside and only flexed slightly his head to the side.

“He’s not, they said. But they can say whatever they want, I’m not there to see myself” his voice was bitter.

“Who’s with him?”

“His wife, Anne. She’s the one who just called me. Luckily I was not on the plane already”. He sucked in his breath and straightened, dragging his eyes back to his cup, taking absent mindedly the small sugar pack and tearing it without placing down his phone. “He underwent surgery and now he’s being monitored in intensive care. The surgery went well, they say”. He tried to smile but failed miserably.

“He’s being taken care of, then” gave Till.

Richard shuffled his feet and moved on the spot. “Yes, but Anne sounded worried. I know she tried to stay calm and all, but... it was bad. Maybe he could worsen. I… don’t know” he said, grimacing over the last words.

“He’s being monitored and treated, Richard. She said he’s not in danger and that the surgery went well, trust her. He’s your brother and she wouldn’t lie on that” tried to console Till.

Richard looked up at Till with an expression of such utter dejection that Till’s breath caught in his throat. Had he said something terribly wrong? Had he caused more damage than good? Before he could say anything Richard took a deep breath and nodded.

“You’re right” he said and looked down at his coffee.

Till remained silent and watched as his guitarist poured the sugar in the small cup and stirred it with the spoon. He didn’t really know what to say to comfort Richard and he didn’t want to say anything cliché or vain. He could understand how he must be feeling, being so far from home and possibly feeling useless in the situation, but there was not much he could do.

“You wanna go home?” he asked even if he already knew what the answer would be.

“No, I can’t”.

Exactly. Everyone every day wanted to go home for several reasons and everyone every day felt the pressure of being on tour, but they simply couldn’t go home. No matter what happened, they virtually _could_ but at the same time _couldn’t_.  Till made some quick calculation in his mind. Actually, Richard _could_ fly to Berlin and be back for the next date in time, but it was bound to not work properly. There could be any kind of delay and the schedule would be too tight to allow any.

“She said she would call me if anything happens. What would I do there anyway?” said Richard, setting down the spoon but not taking the cup.

 _You would be there by his side and see by yourself how he is. You would convince yourself that he will be ok and you would not suffer so much,_ mused Till but chose to say something different.

“He will be ok. From what you say it seems that the worse has passed and they fixed him nicely” the singer said softly.

“That’s what Ollie said” muttered Richard.

“Cause that’s how it is. Of course it’s difficult, but try not to worry too much: it doesn’t help him nor does any good to you. He had been operated and it’s not critical anymore”, tried to comfort Till with the warmest voice he could muster and slipping his free hand on the table toward Richard’s.

Richard lifted his eyes to Till’s and sighed. Till smiled faintly and thankfully Richard seemed to relax a bit.

“The worse has passed” Richard echoed Till’s words nodding to himself.

“Yes” smiled Till.

Eyes darting in every direction possible Richard decided to lift his cup and drink his coffee. Till replicated the same action downing his bitter coffee without adding any sugar. As he placed the cup down, Richard seemed to be still trying to get the last bits of sugar from the bottom of his cup, tilting back his head and the cup.

Till thought about something else to say to ease his mind. Their flight was in half an hour and it was going to take five hours so they were going to reach their destination late at night. He calculated it was around dawn in Germany at the moment. Anne had probably decided to call her brother in law when she could deliver the best news she could. She knew Richard was on tour and Till considered she was sensible enough to worry about him too, but as much as she had tried, it was likely that all the stress and worry built up after a difficult day had copiously coated her reassuring words.  Richard was not one to despair illogically, but he’d received quite some bad news. Car accidents never bode good.

Still, some hours have passed and his brother seemed to be recovering rather than worsening. Till tried his best reassuring Richard as the other man tore in a thousand pieces the empty sugar bag, listening intently and _willing_ to be reassured. When he finally cracked a weak smile and some hope filled his eyes, Till decided he had done a nice job and moved to lead the way back to their seats, as they were leaving soon. While everyone gathered their luggage, Richard made short work of stuffing the Duty Free bag inside his trolley and fetching his jacket to snake among people, pulling his hoodie up. Before disappearing from sight he signaled Till he was going for the last smoke in the smoking area of the gate. Till thought about following him but had no means of concealment and it was better to avoid any kind of trouble.

-

While they queued for priority passport check and during boarding, Richard chose not to talk about his brother to the others, even when Paul asked him if he was okay since he was being rather silent.  While they waited at the gate, Richard told Till and Oliver that he’d just been on the phone with some relatives of him. Everyone he’d heard had sounded rather worried about his brother’s conditions but no one was panicking. His uncle had just left the hospital and had provided some reassuring news which made Richard breathe a sigh of relief and board on the plane feeling better and as much hungry as Till was. 

Most of the roadies scattered in economy class mingling with the other passengers, while the band members and half dozen other people occupied seats in business class. Paul and Christoph chose to stick together even on board, while Flake disappeared somewhere in the last rows. Till followed Richard who sat by a window and Ollie sat right behind them.

When the pilots switched off the cabin lights ready for takeoff, Richard switched his phone to airplane mode and sighed. Till looked at his friend as he shoved the phone in his pocket and rested his head back, looking outside at the dark taxiway shining with signal lights. He looked dejected, as if his fragile peace of mind was already being washed away by dread. His brother’s accident has left him shaken and their already stressful lifestyle couldn’t possibly make it better, leaving them all on edge whatever may happen.

“We’re finally leaving” commented lightheartedly Till, willing to distract Richard. The hostess was making her safety speech.

“Yeah,” Richard whispered, without moving his gaze.

“I can’t wait to be at the hotel and have a bath. Do we have bathtubs?”

“I don’t know”.

“A real bed would be good enough on second thought” sighed Till, paying close attention to Richard.

“Yeah…”.

Silence stretched. The cabin slowly got quiet and when the engines got started and the plane began to move for takeoff, Till uncertainly took Richard’s wrist which was laying on the guitarist’s thigh. Under his palm, Till felt the warm skin peeking out the sweater cuff. Richard slowly turned his head without bothering to conceal his state of mind, which showed through his eyes raw and real. When he did not move his arm, the singer tightened his grip.

“It’s going to be ok” he whispered fondly.

Richard’s eyes unpredictably softened and he smiled, sincerely.

“Of course”.

He paused and then breathed out. “Thank you”.

The engine sound got louder. Richard looked down and moved his hand to take Till’s in his own, interlacing their fingers together. When the airplane took off he turned to look outside. They quietly hold their hands until the bright cabin lights came back and the airplane reached cruise height.  

-

After dinner, if one can call that way an airline meal, Richard looked better. Food does wonder to lift spirits after all, and a full stomach makes a whole body contempt. As Till indulged in some reading, Richard and Ollie spent some time standing at the head of the cabin drinking a glass of bitter. From their position, they could see most of the other passenger getting ready for a few hours of sleep. Christoph had just bid them good night and was tucking himself in by Paul’s side. Paul was already laying down on the almost fully reclinable seat, but his shining overhead light suggested he was not sleeping yet. Flake could be seen writing something, back in the last row.

When the lights dimmed, Ollie and Richard made their way back to their seats to get ready for sleep. After some refreshing and teeth brushing they were all spreading the soft covers over themselves. Till stripped himself down to his t-shirt and laid down with a long yawn.

“How many hours of sleep do we have?” came Richard’s hushed voice by his left.

Till rubbed his eyes and checked his watch laying on the tiny nightstand.

“Umh… 3? Maybe”.                               

“We arrive at 4 am right?”

“Yes.”

Silence. Till mused if Richard was calculating what time would be in Germany when they landed. The guitarist said nothing and Till heard a rustling so he imagined the other was positioning himself more comfortably. The cabin was quiet and some snoring could be already heard, coming from different directions. After a while, Till decided to check on the man by his side and propped himself up on his elbows. Richard had left the window shield open and was staring outside at the black sky.

“Goodnight” whispered Till.

Richard turned his head to look at him.

“Thanks, goodnight”. He didn’t look sleepy at all.

“Try to sleep”.

“I will” the guitarist nodded.

Richard had never seemed to have problems about sleeping on airplanes while Till, when he was not dead exhausted, could not really sleep without waking continuously. The singer laid down and made sure his neck was comfortable. A few minutes after closing his eyes he was, surprisingly, asleep.

-

Till woke up and the first thing he noticed was the low rumble from the airplane, reminding him he was not in a real bed and that he was yet to arrive to his destination. He felt very uncomfortable and his shoulder ached so he tried to roll on his back. He felt rather cold so he groggily sat up and looked for his sweater. Sitting up and looking at his left he remembered about Richard and his brother.

Richard’s seat was empty and his cover was all pushed to one side. Outside the small window, the sky was pitch black. In slowed-down and clumsy movements, Till pawed around for his watch and checked the time. He had only been asleep for an hour and a half.

_Fuck, why can’t I just go into a coma until arrival?_

He sluggishly wore the sweater, squinting in the dark trying to spot Richard but there was no one standing along the aisles. He turned to look at Ollie who seemed to be sleeping peacefully but quite chilled since he was all curled up as much as his long limbs allowed.  

Till’s eyes felt dry and tired, impossibly heavy and puffy. With a sigh, the singer flopped down on the reclinable seat and wished to just fall asleep instantly. Of course he couldn’t. The low rumble was filling his mind unrelentingly and his eyes felt too dry. Annoyed, he sat up again and after a minute of miserable pondering, he pulled himself together and stumbled toward the lavatory to splash some water on his poor eyes.

Behind the wall dividing the hostess’s area from business class with a curtain, he found no one but Richard himself, leaning on the counter with a plastic glass in one hand. As Till wobbled through the half drew curtain, the guitarist lifted his eyes from the floor. By the opposite side of the corridor two hostesses, who were drinking some coffee quietly chatting, fell silent. Till threw them a sweet, languid smile before focusing on Richard.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, moving to get a glass for himself.

Richard shrugged.  “Nothing,” he answered before taking a sip of what looked like orange juice.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” asked Till, pouring himself some water, still squinting under the relatively brighter light.

Richard only inhaled deeply and waved around the hand holding the glass but Till was not looking at him so he couldn’t get the answer.

“Mh?” he asked again, recorking the bottle.

“I can’t” answered Richard a little irritated.

Till caught the edge in his voice and looked at him. Richard, under the bleak light, looked tired. He was looking back with wary sunken eyes. Till silently drank his water, assessing the man in front of him. Richard stared back. Some of the short spikes on top of his head were bent in haphazard directions.

The plane suddenly went through some turbulence and Till almost spilled his water. Richard glanced up and right at the two hostesses, who quickly placed down their coffees and waited. The plane dipped again and the two women flew to their positions to signal the mostly sleeping passenger to remain sitting.

“Sirs, go back to your seats please” one of them whispered to them as she took the phone to communicate with the captain.

Till and Richard nodded and shuffled back to their seats, stumbling as the plane tilted and shook. As they made their way back some passenger woke up and looked around sleepily. When they reached their seats they saw Oliver blinking confusedly all snuggled up. The bassist squinted at them and Till gestured him to go back to sleep and not worry. Oliver gladly obliged and fell asleep in an instant.

The rough turbulences went on for a while, waking many passengers. The captain more than once reassured everyone through announcements and no one panicked. The band and the roadies were pretty accustomed to all kind of flying conditions so they didn’t really care for some turbulence. Richard laid down with a huff, giving Till his back and throwing the cover almost over his head, clearly not willing to talk. Till sat down and waited patiently for the seat belt sign to turn off so he could go and hopefully wet his eyes.

-

“This flight fucking killed me” moaned Oliver stretching his long back while rubbing lazily one eye.

Flake, by his side, sleepily nodded. His hair was tied back in a messy ponytail he probably never bothered to undo and tie again when he woke up. Christoph catatonically stared at nothing swooning on his feet.

The guys were standing in a circle, waiting for their luggage. The airport was still almost empty so early in the morning, so they could enjoy some peace while it lasted. Paul was sitting on his trolley looking around at the others.

“Where did Richard go?” he asked.

“Making a call” answered Till, who was just then staring at the distant figure of Richard, pacing around an unused baggage carousel, far from everyone.

Paul followed Till’s line of sight and spotted the fellow guitarist.

“Is anything wrong with him?” he quietly asked. Oliver stopped rubbing is eye. Till inhaled deeply. Christoph and Flake turned toward Paul and then Till.

“Well…” Till didn’t know how to answer.

“His brother got in a car accident” answered Ollie for him, straightening. Keyboardist, drummer and rhythmic guitarist gasped. Till grimaced. “No need to hide it. Just, guys, let him be. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it”.

Some questions followed and Oliver and Till told what they knew, keeping an eye on Richard to check if he was coming back.

At long last, they could collect all of their respective luggage. Till was taking Richard’s when the lead guitarist came back.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m here” he said, rushing by Till’s side and taking his suitcase from the conveyor belt before Till could. Till gave way and studied his colleague as he lifted his silver baggage and placed it on the floor. The others were a few meters back, gathered around two pulling carts loaded with luggage.

“So?” asked Till while Richard was checking on a slight bump on a corner of his hard shell suitcase. He was acting kind of jumpy.

“He’s fine” came Richard’s answer. Till could see each and any spike on his head as the guitarist was still bent low. “He’s fine and the night went well” the guitarist added after a while, straightening up. A big smile was brightening his tired features.

Till eyes softened and he simply placed a hand on Richard’s shoulder, gripping tightly. “I’m so glad!”

Richard beamed and stood there, looking at Till for a while longer than normal.

“I… I’m sorry. I’m just happy” he said in a rush when he noticed he was acting quite weird. He threw up his hands and shook his head, letting out a laugh. The others turned to look at him.

Till chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Sorry for what? Really, I’m so glad! What did they say?”

“Ahem…” Richard swallowed and stood straight. He threw a look at his fellow bandmates who were looking at him and then turned back to Till. “Anne told me that his vitals are perfectly ok and he even talked for a while before sleeping. He’s not in too much pain, yeah, obviously he’s been given painkillers, and he was lucid. He even asked of me!” Richard’s smile widened. “He asked if I was already traveling to the next country!”

“He sounds fine!”

“Yeah! Doesn’t him?”

Till led the way to the others who, seeing Richard smiling and talking merrily with Till, decided to openly ask how was his brother. Richard answered their questions talking quickly and looking far chirper than anyone else in the airport. His happiness was contagious and cast a warm light on everyone’s heart. 

The weather outside was fine, a sky filled with stars held the promise of a sunny day.

-

An hour later, Till and Richard’s footsteps were muffled by the carpet running down the hotel hallway leading to their rooms, which were on the same floor. Richard’s phone, in his pocket, buzzed. He quickly took it.

“Oh, Anne’s calling!” the guitarist whispered and lifted his eyes to check on the numbers over the room doors. He quickened his steps and Till hurried behind him.

“Thirty-three… thirty-four… here it is!” Richard made short work of opening the door of his room placing the key card close to the reader. With a low bip the door unlocked and he rushed inside pulling his trolley with him. He gestured Till to come inside and after the singer had entered he closed the door behind his back.

He flew to the bed and flopped down while accepting the call.

“Anne!”

Till slowly padded toward the bed and sat next to Richard, looking at their own reflections on the mirrored sliding door of the closet. He could hear Anne’s voice as she gave Richard’s the last news about his brother. From what he could hear everything was getting better and the meds have assessed that his husband was out of danger. Richard couldn’t help a big smile to fill his features as she talked sounding immensely relieved. Richard met Till’s eyes on their reflection as Till wounded an arm around his shoulders. Richard leaned into the embrace and took a deep breath while listening to Anne without interrupting.

 _“Do you wanna talk with him?”_   Till heard her say shortly after. Richard jumped. _“He’s looking at me and… ahahah! Yeah, just wait a second dear. Hold on Richard…”_ some rustling followed.

Then came Richard’s brother’ voice.

“ _Richard!_ ” he called, kind of faintly but clearly.

Till could literally feel Richard’s joy seeping through his skin.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know how I came up with this. I really don't know why I decided to write such a happy ending either, it was not my plan.  
> Anyway... Anne is a fictional character, as well as Richard's brother. On purpose, I never gave him a name because I want to be as respectful as possible to Richard's real-life relatives. I wish everyone the best joyful lives.  
> Sorry for grammar mistakes and things like that.
> 
> [lust-for-sacher on Tumblr]


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